


Endless Love That Owns Me

by Ambiguous_Salamander



Category: Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons)
Genre: Angst, Family Feels, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Gen, I'm Bad At Tagging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:02:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26520331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ambiguous_Salamander/pseuds/Ambiguous_Salamander
Summary: "He tried to deny every uneasy sensation that arose when those words were uttered.Bular was missing."A missing scene in Wizards when Gunmar finds out that Bular had gone missing.
Relationships: Gunmar & Bular
Comments: 6
Kudos: 28





	Endless Love That Owns Me

Gunmar wasn't worried, when the messenger arrived with the news that Bular was missing, he didn't get a sinking feeling, a lump didn't form in his throat, he didn't have to force himself to not immediately go searching for his son. He tried to deny every uneasy sensation that arose when those words were uttered. 

Bular was missing.

Bular could take care of himself, he was a born warrior, he could take on his best generals, and perhaps Gunmar himself one day. There wasn't a reason for the imposing king of the Gumm-Gumms to be apprehensive, right?

His son, his youngling, his precious whelp. 

It was fine, it was better than fine, his son wasn't missing; he would arrive soon telling him about how he killed a trespasser in their territory, or how he had discovered another location where more unaligned trolls were hiding.

But life wasn't fair and he had to go searching, just in case. 

The horrid feeling hadn't faded once Gunmar was close to the last known location Bular was seen. The sun was still high in the sky and the Wild Wood could only provide so much cover. There was nowhere a troll could go without the risk of death.

So where was his son?

The corpse of a fallen Gumm-Gumm soldier soon was in his sight. He felt his heart lurch with the signs of a struggle and the presence of his son's scent.

And not just Bular's scent, a growl crawled out of his throat when the scent of that genocidal King Arthur and his fleshbag army filled his nose. While a few humans couldn't stand against the might of his dark prince, many hardy trolls have fallen to swarms of humans, unfortunately they were very resourceful.

A whine almost escaped his body as an intense panic rattled him.

How long ago? He searched around the corpse, small pieces of rock and blood, residue of magic, and evidence of a large object being dragged away from the woods. Long enough for the scent to start fading; perhaps this morning or early afternoon. No, for the scent to be so dwindled, so faint, this encounter must have happened a day ago. Dread settled into his body, he felt cold, despite the warm day.

Could he be too late?

He shook his head trying to clear his thoughts, a father shouldn't be feeling this way. No, he, Gunmar the Black shouldn't be feeling this way. He was created by a corrupted Heartstone; war and hatred spawned him. So why? Why was the possibility, the thought of any harm coming to his son from those monsters the worst thing he could imagine.

Gunmar had never felt so hopeless. 

It was around twilight when he arrived at the edge of the Wild Wood, two Gumm-Gumm soldiers were already at the location as the castle went up in flames. He was furious, not because his son was in the fleshbags' kingdom, not because it was up in flames and his son was still in the confides of Camelot. It was because he never ordered an attack, he wasn't scared that his son was… that his son could have… 

He felt his hands trembling.

The witch made her appearance, and soon after Bular had rushed to him vouching Morgana's claims. Bular had placed a hand to Gunmar's shoulder, perhaps sensing his father's worry? Gunmar shrugged him off trying to signal that now wasn't the best time. Bular didn't seem to understand however, his body posture assuming a submissive stance. Had Gunmar ever told him that he was proud of Bular, that he loved him? 

After Morgana disappeared, he ordered his scouts to go ahead of the pair to assemble his army in the Darklands. 

War was approaching.

He and Bular trekked their way through the forest, Gunmar stopped when they were a good distance away from the horrid kingdom. He took a glance at Bular, he looked like a scolded youngling; eyes downcast and his body tense ready to receive a lashing for getting captured by the enemy.

Instead Gunmar cupped Bular's face and softly pressed his face against his son, a soft clinking noise was made as their foreheads touched. Bular's body immediately relaxed, but the expression on his face gave away how confused his father's actions left him.

"Father…?" 

Any other words Bular had died as stony hands wandered around his body. Gunmar felt his heartbeat thumping against his chest. What was he searching for? Injuries were normal for a Gumm-Gumm warrior; it was irrational, worrying was irrational, Bular was strong, he knew this.

A small whine came from the younger troll as Gunmar accidently touched sunburned areas. Or that's what Gunmar thought they were before closer inspection, magic burns. Another growl escaped his body; how dare they, how dare those weak-willed cowards injure his son. 

They both decided to remain in the woods, hidden in the shade away from prying eyes so Bular could recover; magic burns, any magical injuries, took more energy to heal than sunburns. Perhaps due to trolls being magical in nature? All Gunmar knew was that it took longer for their bodies to separate any invasive magic from their natural magic.

Night fell as the duo lay next to each other; they had spoken of trivial things, of previous victories, of future exploits to pass the time. It was almost midnight when Gumar finally said, "Rest my son, we have a war to win." 

Bular gave an irritated huff before resting his head, Gunmar followed suit and gave his son one last nuzzle. It didn't take long for Bular to drift to sleep; the combination of the warm weather, the sleepless days of patrolling the Wild Wood, and his capture by the fleshbag king finally took a toll on him. Soft snores joined the other woodland noises.

Although Gunmar had planned to slumber alongside his dark prince he found it hard to let his guard down. The Wild Woods were becoming unsafe, King Arthur's recent actions were unsettling, not that Gunmar would admit it, trespassing on his territory on multiple occasions just to hunt down his kind.

If the fleshling king and his foolish army came across the Gumm-Gumm royals as they slept there wouldn't be any hesitation, they would be killed on sight. A low growl crawled from Gunmar as he shifted closer to his slumbering son to shield him from the wood's hidden dangers.

It was fine, it was better than fine. His son was his flourishing dark prince, his youngling was a powerful warrior, his whelp was safe next to him. Gunmar let himself rest alongside his son, a peaceful memory from long ago resurfacing as he closed his eye. A soft purr came from the older troll assuring himself of his son's safety. 

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this father-son duo on the brain ever since Trollhunters, and Wizards finally triggered the itch to write.
> 
> I have a tumblr under: mystical_salamander. Come by and say hi!


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